Rhiannon by Carole Llewellyn

great honour that I, your chairman for the evening, call you to order. For the next few hours prepare to be amazed, astonished and, above all, entertained as you’ve never been entertained before.’ Once again he banged the gavel on the table. ‘With no further ado, please put your hands together for our very own ... excitingly exquisite ... Empire Belles!’
    His voice was captivating. Rhiannon hung on his every word. She had never seen a man, possibly in his early twenties, so gorgeous; he was tall and well built, with dark-brown well-groomed hair and sparkling blue eyes. He oozed what could only be described as a sexual presence. Overcome by a strange feeling of excitement deep within, her body heat increased and from the way her face was burning she knew it was bright red. She was glad of the darkness.
    She felt Mair tug her arm. ‘Cor, Rhi, he’s a bit of all right, don’t you think?’
    Rhiannon was grateful for the loud applause from the audience making it impossible for Mair to hear, even if she’d deigned to answer her sister.
    As the chairman took his seat at the table, a chorus-line of dancers dressed as bathing-belles tap-danced in unison across the stage. Rhiannon had never seen dancing like it, and longed to be one of them.
    For the next hour Rhiannon sat spellbound. Mair must have felt the same because for once she stayed silent as one act followed another:
dancers, jugglers, and a soprano who sang ‘I’m only a bird in a gilded cage’ to perfection.
    Rhiannon particularly enjoyed the performance of a young girl called Sally Webber, who came on dressed as a street urchin and sang: ‘All my life I wanted to be a barrow-boy’, encouraging the audience to sing along with the chorus, which everyone, including Rhi and Mair, did with gusto.
    Every now and then Rhiannon’s eyes wandered to the table and, in particular, to the chairman sitting at the side of the stage.
    To end the first half a comedian called Tom O’Reilly brought the house down with his constant mistakes and daft antics that had both girls laughing so much their sides hurt.
    â€˜I don’t know about you, Mair. But if I laugh much more I’ll end up peeing my knickers!’ Rhiannon whispered. Of course she never would. She just wanted to show Mair that she wasn’t really stuffy.
    The first half ended to great applause and as the curtains fell and the house-lights came up on the auditorium there was a chance for the audience to shuffle in their seats or, if inclined, take some refreshment.
    â€˜Thanks for bringing me, Rhi. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. This is the life, eh? Do you think when we’re living with Aunt Florrie we’ll be able to do this every day?’
    â€˜I don’t know; maybe. Anyway, for the time being I’ll just be glad if she takes us in.’ Rhiannon didn’t want to spoil things but she needed Mair to share her concerns.
    â€˜Don’t be daft. Of course she’ll take us in. Won’t she?’
    Concerned as Rhiannon was, she couldn’t get the chairman out of her mind. She wondered whether he was a regular attached to the theatre or, like Aunt Florrie, a visiting artist. She looked in the programme and found his photograph. Underneath the name Gerald ‘Gus’ Davenport. If she asked, maybe her aunt could introduce them. She scolded herself for being so silly. Why would a man like that want to be bothered with the likes of her?
    Rhiannon felt a tap on her shoulder.
    â€˜Hello, miss, I’ve brought you a tray of sandwiches and a drink each.’ It was the young girl who’d showed them to their box. Leaning past Rhiannon she clipped the tray onto a convenient little bracket on the arm of her seat, obviously made for the purpose.
    â€˜Thank you,’ Rhiannon said. She nudged Mair, prompting her to do the same.
    â€˜Oh, yes. Thank you very much.’

    â€˜Miss Grayson thought you might